Mudbloods Beware
by Eshe Returned
Summary: The story of Draco's fifth year: discoveries about Theodore Nott, adventures in poison, vicious plots, and the whole reasoning behind Draco's choice or lack therof to join the Death Eater ranks.
1. Prologue: Mudbloods Beware

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the ideas for this story, not even the idea for Nott's character, which I got off of JKR's site. *Sigh* I'm just not that creative.

Mudbloods Beware: A Prologue

"Mudbloods Beware," sneered Draco Malfoy. At his words, a door concealed in the wall opened to reveal a large passage. Malfoy and his friends/unofficial guardians, Crabbe and Goyle, walked into a dungeon area that served as the Slytherin Common Room. Several torches, some of which were glowing green or silver, lit the room. Hanging from the ceiling were several green lanterns. Malfoy sank into a chair that was regal in design, and had snakes carved into the darkly stained wood. This was one of many similar chairs, but Malfoy's was the grandest. The pompous boy had claimed it upon entry into the room on his first night. It was his throne. It sat closest to the fireplace and carved mantel, made to look like two giant snakes were crawling from an egg that was being sat on by a frog. The design might have been considered brilliance if it weren't so repulsive.

"You should have seen Longbottom's face when I dumped extra salamander's blood into his strengthening solution; he looked like he might cry. Then Snape took all those points from Gryffindor, and I nearly died from laughing!" Malfoy had settled into his usual routine of discussing the tricks he had played on various people that day, and as usual, the common room was grateful to hear their favorite prefect's tales.

"And you did this while Umbridge was watching," breathed Pansy Parkinson.

"You're so brave," exclaimed Millicent Bulstrode.

"Is tricking squibs and slurring mudbloods all you ever do?" asked a Slytherin boy in fifth year with Malfoy. He had been lurking in a shadowy corner nearby, but when he saw Malfoy's fan club gathering, he decided to go have some fun.

Several gasps came from the girls surrounding Draco, and the entire common room turned to watch. They were geared up for a fight. Everyone watched Malfoy, waiting anxiously for his retort. To many of the younger Slytherins especially, Malfoy was something of a hero.

"Why, do you care Theodore, are you going to defend them?"

"No, I was just wondering why someone with a father like yours, practically a legend at Hogwarts in his day, would lower himself to that level. So much talk and so little action."

At this, Malfoy blushed, and reached for his wand (the signal at which Crabbe and Goyle rose stupidly from their chairs). One look from Theodore, however, made him think twice. Theodore was very sly and smart. Malfoy was well aware that Theodore caused serious problems for mudbloods whenever he could do so without causing suspicion. Malfoy's may be the name the rest of the school knew as the ranking Slytherin terror, but he knew who the real terror was. Many mudbloods had been sent home crying or injured by Theodore Nott, but Dumbledore was the only one with an inkling as to who caused these problems, and he had no proof. Thus, Theodore always lived to torment another day. Theodore was the only Slytherin who could see through Malfoy, and it scared him.

"I would have thought being turned into a ferret last year would have spurred you into action, Draco." sneered Theodore (more gasping from the crowd).

If Malfoy hadn't known Theodore was just trying to get him to change his mind about putting his wand back in his robes, (and if he hadn't known he'd lose in a duel), he would have jinxed him then and there.


	2. Chapter 1: Nott Inarticulate

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the ideas for this story, not even the idea for Nott's character, which I got off of JKR's site. *Sigh* I'm just not that creative.

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 1

Nott Inarticulate

It was late, and most of the Slytherins had gone to bed, except Malfoy. He sat in his throne, and stared transfixed at the dancing fire until a movement to his left made him jump. "Calm down Draco, it was just the portrait," he said aloud, disgusted with himself. He had stayed in the common room so no one could call him a coward, but he was afraid Nott was going to appear at any moment. He had just caught his breath when he heard a most unwelcome snicker coming from his right.

"Afraid of your own shadow now, are we?" Theodore Nott chuckled.

Malfoy blushed, it was bad enough that Nott had embarrassed him in front of the whole common room, and now Nott had witnessed his moment of cowardice. Theodore took in Draco's pink cheeks and angry countenance, and knew his timing had been perfect. He had been watching Draco for a little under a half hour. He knew he had to get him really upset for his plan to work.

"So, salamander's blood in Neville's potion, eh? Have you ever heard of Sally-Anne Perks?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Malfoy, slightly surprised by this question.

"Have you ever heard of Sally-Anne Perks?" Nott grinned at having caught Draco off guard.

"Of course I have, she's the Gryffindor girl who got bitten by a werewolf in our first year," said Malfoy, his voice dripping with disdain.

"That's just what the teacher's said because students weren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, and Parvati saw Sally-Anne being carried out of the hospital wing with bad bites—Patil started that rumor. Dumbledore encouraged it of course, not that it mattered as everyone knows about the stone now."

Malfoy tried to hide his shock. Besides, Nott was probably just trying to trick him anyway. He would have surely heard if Theodore were telling the truth. He tried to think back to first year and the rumors. Supposedly, Zabini Blaise and Sally-Anne had some sort of fight, and he told her that there were Unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. She had gone to see if it was true (something Draco could have told her after that detention with Potter). She had been bitten that night.

As if Nott could read Draco's mind, he said, "If you don't believe me, I'd understand, I mean, I wouldn't expect _you_ to know the truth."

That had done it--Malfoy was incensed. He drew his wand and yelled, "Stupefy!" Theodore blocked lazily, and threw back a well-placed inarticulate curse. Malfoy was shocked when he started to get sores all over his arms. Inarticulate curses weren't usually studied till sixth year.

"Tarantallegra," Malfoy yelled. This time, Nott blocked it with a rather exaggerated yawn. Draco, his face contorted with rage, looked ready to kill.

"Sectumsempra!" he spat, but Nott simply blocked again, and sent the inarticulate version of Petrificus Totalus at Malfoy, who dropped hard to the floor. Nott quickly cured Malfoy's sores, and then left. Draco thought he was going to be left to be found by giggling first years in the morning, but a few minutes later, Theodore reappeared with something that looked a lot like a muggle baby food jar, labeled: Sally-Anne Perks and a bowl he recognized as a pensieve. There was some silvery substance swimming in the jar. Had Malfoy been able to move his face, it would have registered confusion.

Theodore, however, paid no attention to Malfoy. He began talking. "You never could beat me in a duel, but it is so much fun when you try." He laughed harshly as he saw the fury in Draco's eyes. "I am the one truly responsible for that Mudblood Perks' injuries. She was such a nosy little witch; I felt she needed to be exterminated. Well, I don't really need to tell you about it, I can show you." He pointed to the jar, "I keep one for all of my victims."

At this, he pointed his wand at Draco's still form. He smiled at the petrified look in Draco's eyes, and muttered, "Finite." Shocked and angry, Draco pushed himself off the floor, but did not dare attempt another attack.

Nott poured the contents of the jar into the empty pensieve, and motioned Malfoy over. Malfoy felt like he would rather stay where he was, but curiosity and the gleam in Theodore's eyes made him walk to the table. He remembered an occasion when his father had used a pensieve, and he leaned into the liquid, followed closely by Theodore. Next thing he knew, he was in the great hall during the sorting at Malfoy's first year. He watched as Perks was sorted. He noted the look of loathing on the past Nott's face. The Nott beside him began talking.

"She walked into my compartment on the train, and started asking all kinds of questions. She was a right little annoyance, and then I found out she was a mudblood. Her being sorted into Gryffindor was just icing on the cake." Nott mused.

Malfoy wasn't really listening though, he watched as Harry Potter stepped up to be sorted. He started to snigger at how small Potter looked when he heard himself sniggering a few feet behind Nott. "This is so weird," he thought to himself.


	3. Chapter 2: Into the Pensieve

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the ideas for this story, not even the idea for Nott's character, which I got off of JKR's site. *Sigh* I'm just not that creative.

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 2

Into the Pensieve

Watching Potter walk to the Gryffindor's table to tumultuous applause stirred up the ever-present hatred and (though he would never admit it) jealousy Malfoy harbored towards Harry.

"Listen up—this is important!" Nott hissed.

Nott had interrupted Draco's reminiscing, and he looked up. Dumbledore was talking. Something that sounded suspiciously like, "Old, mudblood-loving fool," escaped Malfoy's lips, but he was promptly shushed by Nott who was now watching Dumbledore with a maniacal glint in his eye.

" 'And Finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.'"

Malfoy saw a mischievous grin on Nott's face, and he looked over to where the younger Nott was sitting, and saw the mirror image of the face of the Nott beside him, the same mischievous grin. At that point, the Nott beside him tapped him hard, and began walking. The first-year version of Nott had also gotten up to go with the rest of the Slytherins to their common room. Malfoy followed the two Notts along many familiar corridors, until they began to head in a different direction. They all headed to the right-hand side of the third-corridor. Malfoy knew nothing could harm him in a memory, but he couldn't stop the fear welling up inside him.

"Alohomora," whispered the first-year Nott, as he reached a locked door, which he then carefully opened. The sound of vicious barking filled Malfoy's ears long before he could glimpse its source. Then, he saw a giant paw, but nothing else as the door was slammed shut. First-year Nott was trembling and whiter than any ghost, but once he started to leave, he grinned evilly. His step had slightly more bounce than when he had come in. Malfoy went to follow him, but the older Nott grabbed his sleeve.

"Do you know what that was? That was a very rare three-headed dog. It gave me quite a scare at first, but it also gave me a brilliant plan to get rid of Miss Perks."

Before Malfoy could respond, he felt himself lurch back out of the pensieve.

"Now, you've seen how I found the dog. I was naturally curious about Dumbledore's warning. I tried to get near it again, but every other time I came up here, I was shooed away by Filch."

Malfoy couldn't believe what had just happened. " 'What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?'" Malfoy thought to himself.

"That was the entrance to where they were hiding the Sorcerer's Stone, which is why they wouldn't let me near it again," explained Nott. Malfoy once again felt as if Nott must have read his mind. "Yeah, well, you still haven't proved that what happened to Perks was your doing!" Malfoy exclaimed, trying to hide his own insecurity. Nott chuckled, and then he prodded the silvery thoughts again. He motioned Malfoy to come. Malfoy shoved his head back in with a sigh of annoyance. This time, he found himself out near the lake. The first-year Nott was talking quietly to Sally-Anne.

"There is an awesome treasure in the third-floor corridor. The teachers just want it for themselves." He held out a handful of galleons whose shine couldn't match the gleam that appeared in Sally-Anne's eyes. Then, Nott quietly passed her an invisibility cloak. "I found this at the top of the tallest Astronomy tower, and if you want some of the loot, you have to use it, but once you go through the door I told you about, you have to take it off, or you won't be able to see the treasure; the room's enchanted."

Malfoy felt himself being pulled out of the pensieve once again, but not before he saw Sally-Anne walk quickly back into the castle.

"I jinxed her so she could never tell a soul about anything that happened for the next hour. Those galleons were mine, but once she took them, the jinx took effect. I knew she was so nosy and greedy that she would go after the treasure immediately," Nott said all this in a rush, and Malfoy missed the very first part since he had been coming out of the pensieve at the time. Nott's excitement seemed to emanate from him, and Malfoy could feel the energy. Nott simply smiled and returned the thoughts to the jar. He stalked back up to his dorm, leaving Malfoy with his thoughts.

"Why did he show me all that?" wondered Malfoy aloud. He knew Nott had caused some major problems, but Perks could have been killed, then again, that had been his intention. This was the sort of thing his father might have done. A small voice in his head finished, "The sort of thing he expects me to do."

"Draco knew that he disappointed his father. He had to find a way to show his father and Nott that he was just as cunning, just as brave as either of them. Malfoy fell asleep in his throne, thinking about the night's events, and how he would show Nott up.


	4. Chapter 3: The Half Blood Prince

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 3

The Half-Blood Prince

Malfoy woke up early on Friday, sitting in his throne. A little over three weeks had passed since Nott had taken him into the pensieve, and ever since, Malfoy had been spending a lot of time in the library. He had decided the best way to show Nott up would be to get rid of several mudbloodsin one sweep. This would take careful planning. He figured poison would be the easiest way to make it happen, but he didn't want to use just any poison. He wanted something powerful, wicked, and most important, symbolic —symbolic of the spirit of the attack. Malfoy didn't want anyone to know he had committed the murders, but he did want everyone to know why the victims had been attacked. He would tell his father, of course, who would never tell, and Nott. He already knew exactly how he was going to keep Nott from telling.

"Are you okay? Did you sleep out here?" The concerned voice of Pansy Parkinson yanked Draco from his thoughts.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I did, er, yeah, I fell asleep out here." Malfoy glanced at the table where his Potions homework from earlier was sitting on top of several books on poisons he'd rented from the library. "All this extra homework for O.W.L. preparation keeps me pretty busy, and of course Quidditch practice. I'm exhausted, maybe I'll skip breakfast and sleep a bit longer in my dorm," Malfoy said with mock fatigue. He was actually wide awake thinking about his plans. Besides, he could sleep in classes.

Draco noticed that Pansy looked disappointed. She had probably been hoping he would come with her to breakfast, but all she said was, "That's probably a good idea. You'll need your rest to beat Gryffindor at the first match tomorrow." Draco took Pansy's hand for a second before grabbing the books and walking up the winding stairwell to his dorm. He walked past the familiar pictures of the current and previous heads of Slytherin house, including a scowling Snape, sleeping Slughorn, and sinister Salazar. Draco's thoughts settled on Pansy while his steps mechanically led him up to his room. He knew she'd be upset about breakfast. They were together now, ever since the Yule Ball last year. Draco didn't have much time to reminisce about the gorgeous pink creation Pansy had worn before he opened the door to the dormitory that he shared with Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle were probably already at breakfast. The others had gone down to the common room.

Draco turned his attention to the huge silver chest at the foot of his bed. His father had bought it for him in first year, and had it customized with four parallel metallic green stripes, two of which flanked a great metallic green serpent shaped into an "S". The other two stripes were on the edges of the trunk. The latches that Draco opened were the same green, but the sheen had worn off from all the opening and closing. He'd have to get his father to buy him a new trunk.

"He'd probably be so proud he'd buy me a castle after my plan succeeds," Draco thought to himself. He let a contented grin take over his face. His father had always spoiled him, but it was more his way of buying affection and loyalty. It was the way his grandfather had bought Lucius' affection, and the only way Lucius knew to treat Draco. Draco didn't mind. In fact, he liked his father a lot because he knew that he tried, but this just made Draco feel worse when he couldn't live up to his father's expectations. Lucius was always telling him that as pureblood wizards, they were to distance themselves as much as possible in manner from those who were not. They must always pay close attention to their status, and never tarnish their reputation. Their reputation was supposed to prove that purebloods were better than mudbloods. This was why his father was always upset whenever he saw Draco's marks, and knew that the Granger girl had gotten better ones. Lucius had been head of his class back in his day. He always lorded this over Draco. He also took pride in his reputation for mudblood torture, and he was thoroughly annoyed with Draco for seemingly being unable to carry on this tradition. The smile disappeared from Draco's face, and was replaced by a grimace. This year would be different though, he assured himself.

Draco took a quick glance around before muttering, "Sanguis Purusa." A secret compartment in the lid appeared. That compartment had been built into the trunk, and was one of the reasons his father had bought it. The Malfoys would always appreciate secret compartments for hiding things. Draco quickly snatched all the parchment from it, looked around, and muttered the same charm to hide the compartment.

These parchments held revised instructions for all the potions Professor Snape had ever assigned. Snape had given them to Malfoy just this year to help him with the O.W.L.s, and had insisted they be kept well guarded. This was of course so neither he nor Draco would get in trouble (Snape for unfair treatment and Draco for accepting). None of the instructions were exactly new to Malfoy; they were just on paper now. Snape had always been more than willing to offer his advice for a potion before class started. Either way, Draco was his favourite, and any potions he made were given top marks. Occasionally Draco wondered where Snape had learned these instructions, and why he didn't share them with the rest of the class (not that he was upset about this). Now that he had the parchments, he at least had a clue to who had taught Snape. At the top of the first page, the words: 'Courtesy of the Half-Blood Prince' were written in Snape's writing. Malfoy had never been curious enough though to actually research the name. It didn't really matter to Draco at the moment that he didn't know everything about those instructions. All he really needed to know was that he was sure to find a poison worthy of his intentions in these parchments.

Draco figured he'd have at least a few minutes to examine the first page before his first class on Friday, History of Magic. He skimmed the page, but no poisons seemed to be listed. It was too late to examine any of the other pages, so he headed off to History of Magic.

"And that is why the 1708 Giant War started," finished Professor Binns. Draco had awoken to the sounds of his classmates packing up, and then he heard that snippet, just enough so he'd know which chapters to read if he decided to do the homework. He never could stay awake in Binns' class, not that he ever tried or felt it mattered. Draco had given up trying to get the best grades in his year after third year. It was hopeless. He knew his father would be upset, but he could think of no way around it. That Granger girl had to be cheating somehow, either that or she had the teachers wrapped around her fingers in the same way he had Snape wrapped around his. His mother, father, and Snape were on excellent terms, and Snape was often invited over to share a meal, and this no doubt helped Snape's opinion of Draco.

Draco knew the second he returned to the dormitory that he wasn't going to have time for homework. It was lucky that Pansy was always thrilled at the opportunity to do Draco's homework. He intended to use every free, waking moment to study Snape's revised instructions. He really wanted to find something before the Winter Holidays. He had taken his time with the library, but now that there was less than a month until the end of the term, patience was not an option.

Night came quickly for Draco, mostly because classes pass rather quickly when you sleep through them. As soon as he was sure the rest of the boys were asleep he opened the secret compartment, and he brought out the parchments. "Funestus Poison, hmm. Likely candidate, erm, or not. 'Not to be used during any time other than early morning.'" Draco had come across many "likely candidates" so far, but all of them were too complicated, too limiting, or otherwise not fit for his plan.

Draco stayed up until dawn, and he never even noticed the house elves (not that he ever took notice — he was used to their presence). They were probably more flustered about him still being up than he was about them flitting about. If he hadn't been tired last morning, he was definitely tired now, but he figured he'd better not skip out on another breakfast with Pansy. She'd have a fit. Besides, he wanted to show her something he had worked on since he saw the Gryffindor Team's last practice.

Even Pansy probably didn't know that morning would be the last time she and the other Slytherins would see Draco outside of classes or Quidditch until after Christmas. Whenever he had free time, Draco spent it holed up in his dormitory reading his textbooks. Everyone figured the upcoming O.W.L.s were stressing him out_._


	5. Chapter 4: Revenge of the Basilisk

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 4

Revenge of the Basilisk

"No, father! No, I di... I did my best!"

"Draco, Draco! Wake up boy!" The tall form of Severus Snape loomed, framed by the green, velvet curtains of Draco's four-poster bed.

"Professor?"

"You were screaming. Here, take this."

"What is it?" said Draco, as he took the steaming vial. It lit the room in its red glow.

"Just remember, no sin goes unpunished."

Draco pulled the vial from his lips, but not before he felt a warm drop of potion trickle down his throat. He felt like he was choking. A hot, searing pain crouched behind his eyeballs. He began to cough and sputter. He felt himself lose control of his body. Spasms started to rack him, and he gasped, but no air came into his lungs. Panic gripped him, as he felt himself black out, still choking.

Draco bolted up from his bed. He took a deep, gasped, breath of air. He was breathing rapidly, but he saw light gleaming through the closed curtains around his bed. His breath started to even out, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. As he was un-sticking his pajamas, he heard the lock of his door click.

"Draco?" The curtains around his bed swished open, and Draco saw his mother, already dressed. "You were screaming. Did you have the dream again? Was _he _in it?"

"Oh, er, yeah."

Narcissa took Draco into her arms, and started to rub his back, but he wriggled free.

"Why are you dressed up? What time is it?"

"It's ten, and I am going to tea with the Crowlers, but maybe I should stay."

"NO! I mean, er...it's fine. You should go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Breakfast is on the table, and I left some Floo powder by the fireplace for if you need it."

"Alright. Have fun."

Narcissa left and closed the door with a sigh.

Draco took a deep breath and dropped into the leather slippers next to his bed. This was his big chance. His mother was finally leaving the house. His father was at the Ministry, and he wasn't expected back till late. Christmas Holiday was almost over, and Draco had started to worry this day wouldn't come. He'd already exhausted the Manor's library and the papers Snape had given him. He needed to get into the room under the drawing room, but his father would be very angry if he knew that Draco was going to break into it. He wasn't allowed in there, but that's where the darkest books were kept. He'd had to plan for months how to get in. He walked down the hallway, down the winding staircase to the ground floor of the mansion. He almost went past the door that went into the dining room, but changed his mind when his stomach chose that moment to moan loudly. "Can't work on an empty stomach," mumbled Draco. He walked into the spacious room, taken over by the large square table that resides in the center. He noticed that at his usual place, there was a plate with smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. A bowl to the side held a fruit salad, and there was a cup of Grapefruit juice, and a mug of tea stationed at 2:00. Also, a house-elf had placed a candle near his plate. Draco ate mechanically, preoccupied with what he had to do, and when he was finished, he left, and walked down the hall to the room at the end, his father's study. A very large and imposing mahogany door spanned the wall from floor to ceiling. The silver doorknob with a serpent etched on it gleamed in the light of the two lamps at either side of the door. Draco turned away from the door and looked down the hallway.

"Griphell!"

A tiny creature with a stubby nose and long pointy ears arrived with a loud crack, right at Draco's feet. He bowed and asked in a raspy squeak, "Master Draco? What may I do for you sir?"

"I need you and the rest of the house-elves to stay away from this floor today."

"Yes sir! Of course sir! I shall inform the others immediately!"

Draco smirked in satisfaction and looked to his right. There was a tiny crack in the wall. "Illepeto!" he muttered. _Thank Merlin I can use magic!_ he thought. The crack widened only marginally, but enough to reveal a tiny silver key. Draco couldn't count the number of times he'd spied his father doing what he was doing now. _That mirror really is the most useful present I've ever gotten! Severus knows what he's doing!_

Draco went to the lamp on the left side of the door, and he stuck the key into the bottom. The key turned smoothly, and the lamp slid to the side. There was a nook, housing a small portrait of a snake charmer.

"Eh! Password?" grunted the portrait.

"Darkness Rising."

The portrait swung open to reveal a large silver key, which Draco took and jammed into the doorknob, eyes glistening. The knob glowed green, and he opened the door. He'd only been in his father's study a few times, but never alone. Ministry work wasn't all Lucius did in his sanctuary. Draco stared at the built-in desk on the wall opposite the door. He remembered sitting on it, feet dangling a foot off the floor. Even now, the desk seemed enormous.

"If I were my father, where would I hide the key to the drawing room cellar?"

Draco started rummaging around...carefully. He didn't know what other protections were in this room. His father had a shield put on the room when he started using it, and among the shield's powers was apparently the ability to cloud Draco's mirror. Draco began poking around his father's desk. He discovered a few secret compartments, but none held the key. He moved to the wall on his right. The entire wall was shelves, each heavy with all the books it could hold. Draco eyed a few of the titles, but he knew there would be nothing in these books. They were all history and law, Ministry texts and a few photo albums. Draco groaned as he remembered the many outfits he'd been forced into over the years. One in particular when he was eight would have put Weasley's Yule Ball robes to shame. Draco began thumbing a few volumes. He didn't have much time.

"Think, Draco! Think!"

He noticed a black book with a ruby set in its spine. The blood red lettering read, "Obscurum Ortus." Darkness Rising. It appeared those lessons in Latin he'd been forced to take were of some use after all! Draco smirked as he pulled the book off its shelf and opened the cover. Sure enough, lying in a hole was a large brass key, but a glittery gold force field shimmered over the top. Draco groaned.

"Alohomora would have been simpler." That had been his first plan, but of course his father was too clever for that! Draco thought for a moment.

"Isildiseth?" he murmured tentatively.

"Er, Obscurum Ortus?" Still nothing.

"Damn it! Could nothing be simple!" Draco thought for several more moments before his brain hit an idea.

"Abeo Specialis." The force field glowed red, and he whispered, "Mudbloods Beware." The force field evaporated. He grabbed the key, and muttered the reverse of his password-changing spell. Draco left the room at speeds only previously possible on broom. He ran quickly to the drawing room, and pulled up the rug. He smashed the key into the lock, fumbling in excitement, but finally turning it. He pulled up the trap door.

"Lumos!"

A long flight of steps glowed in the wand light. Draco rushed down into the dark, damp, hole of a space. The walls were littered with books, all covered with cobwebs. Skulls and other dark objects sat on tables and the floor. Draco noticed there were at least 400 potion vials strewn around. He felt as if he'd just uncovered a great prize, and in effect, he had. He started to walk along the walls slowly, picking out books that seemed of interest. Once he picked out a dozen books, he set them at a table to skim them. He wanted to be sure they were what he wanted before carrying them upstairs. He'd just opened the third when he heard a loud noise above him.

"Bugger!"

He took his arm across the table, sweeping the books into a bag he'd brought and minimized it before dropping it into his pocket. He flew up the stairs and locked the trap door. Hoping he didn't look too frenzied or out of breath, he calmly headed towards the entrance hall. He'd have to worry about how he was going to return the key later.

"Blast! Mum and Dad were supposed to be gone till ten!" He entered the hall, but there wasn't anyone there. He looked about.

"Bugger! Griphell!"

CRACK!

"Yes, Master Draco?"

"What was that noise!?"

"Oh, Master Draco, I am incredibly sorry sir! That was Yanew, the new elf. Something spooked him, and he dropped a dish, but no worries, I repaired it."

"Bring this new elf to me!"

"Yes, Master," Griphell bowed low before Disapparating. He appeared again seconds later with a timid elf whose ears hung to the side of his face and whose long nose corkscrewed at the end.

"Leave us, Griphell!" Draco commanded before beginning his tirade. "What the hell is the matter with you! You stupid elf!" Draco punctuated his remarks with a swift kick. "I was very busy! I had things to accomplish today!" A yelp sounded as Draco kicked the elf again. "I'm going to report you to father for this! Now go punish yourself! I would suggest eating the chimney soot!" The elf nodded silently and Disapparated, beating Draco's next kick by a fraction of a second. Draco landed squarely on his bum and cursed.

Draco groaned. His father was going to hear about this! That elf was no good! Draco got up and walked off. After returning the cellar key, he went up to his room, and dumped his bag onto his bed. He noticed several vials drop out with the books. He must have accidentally swept them into the bag as well. He picked one up that was filled with a brown, glutinous substance and had a slimy green scale floating on top. He wondered vaguely if potions expire. He tossed it back into the bag and picked up another. It looked like it was filled with blood. He tossed it in as well. The third vial he noticed was labeled Basilisk Venom. He nearly tossed it into his bag too before his brain caught up with what he'd read.


	6. Chapter 5: What's in a Name?

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 5

What's in a Name?

"Draco! Are you even listening to me!" shrilled Pansy Parkinson.

"Huh? Oh! Right..." Draco cast around for some subconscious memory of whatever Pansy had been saying, and he landed on nothing, so stuttered out, "I've got to go. We can talk later!" Draco got up to leave, but seeing Pansy pout, quickly laid a kiss on her lips before walking up the staircase. Draco paced around the room, occasionally muttering incoherent slips of what sounded like nonsense, but was in actuality names.

"Malfoy?"

"Blaise! I didn't realize you were here!"

"Well, this is my dorm too, and it _is_ almost time to turn in." Blaise accompanied his comment with a bewildered glance.

Malfoy checked his watch. Sure enough, it was late. "Of course! I meant I just didn't see you come in! I lost track of time and didn't realize it was so late!" Malfoy glared at Blaise, but couldn't hold his stare long as something collided abruptly with his shoulder.

"Nott!"

Nott grinned. "Malfoy."

"What the hell is your problem!"

"Nothing really. A minor obstruction in my path."

Malfoy seethed. Minor obstruction his arse!

Draco engaged Nott in a glaring contest, which Nott participated in for a few moments, amusement glittering just beyond the reach of his smile before he turned around and laid on his bed. This only served to make Malfoy angrier.

"Stand up!"

Nott looked disinterestedly up at Draco for a moment before drawing the curtains around his bed with a flick of his wand.

"What are you staring at!" Malfoy snapped at Blaise and the newly arrived Crabbe and Goyle. "Get to your beds!" All three boys snapped their eyes away and then changed into their nightclothes and climbed into bed. Malfoy glared around for a few moments before grabbing the wand from his bedside table and fuming down the dormitory stairs into the common room. He noticed that Pansy was still awake and went to sit next to her on the green sofa near the girls' side fire. "Hey Pansy. Still up?"

"I'm not really ready to sleep yet. I was just remembering the last Quidditch match. Are you sure Madam Pomfrey fixed all your wounds?" Pansy quickly ran her hands over Draco's face and chest. He said nothing for a moment, allowing her to continue, but she soon stopped when he didn't appear to be in pain.

"Yes, Pansy, she got them all." Draco smirked. The short-lived pain was nothing when he remembered the results. "Even if she hadn't, it'd be worth it. Potter and the twins are banned! You were brilliant—conducting like you were! Weasley was so riled up he couldn't block a thing!"

"Well," Pansy blushed, "They were your lyrics. It was nothing."

Draco placed a swift kiss on her cheek before sitting beside her on the sofa. She automatically leaned into him, smiling brightly. They sat in silence for a long time (or what was a long time for Pansy). Draco's thoughts drifted up to the vial of venom in his trunk as they so often did since winter holiday. He smiled. His father was going to be proud of him this year.

"Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"You've been…different since winter holiday." Pansy twisted her head to look up at Draco. "You had gotten so withdrawn. You seemed stressed, but now…" Pansy shrugged. "You're still off to yourself a lot, but you're just…happier, or something. What's up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, I just thought that maybe something happened over holiday that made you feel less stressed. I mean, you were always in the library studying, or up in your dorm before, and now you're…not."

Draco thought for a minute. He wondered if it was safe to share his plan with Pansy. The weird thing was that he wanted to. Really, really wanted to. She'd never given him any reason not to trust her, and she was clearly smitten with him, but he couldn't mess this up. No. Telling Pansy might be a bad idea. He couldn't believe she'd screw anything up on purpose, but she gossips, and she might not understand the importance of keeping her mouth shut and let something slip at the wrong time. But maybe he could tell her a little something he'd learned on holiday.

"Pansy, what I'm about to say is important. Please don't go talking around school okay? Actually, it's best if it be our little secret." Draco took her hand in his and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "My father says he's found a way to help Lord Voldemort get to Potter."

Pansy's eyes sparkled and she licked her lips. "How?"

"Father wouldn't tell me anything else. All I know is that it involves a house-elf—I overheard him talking to mum about one called Kreacher, but the name's all I heard before he caught me and shooed me away."

"That's exciting news!"

Draco smiled. She was adorable when she was excited. He couldn't resist kissing her temple lightly. "I'm going to go back up to bed now. Remember: our secret. Just for us." He took her hand in his lightly and caressed it with his thumb while he said the words, hoping she'd understand. He trusted her.

After a quick goodbye kiss, Draco climbed the stairs to his dorm, muttering names as he went. He'd think of a few possible poison victims, and then fall silent. He'd shake his head, mutter some more, and then…silence. By the time Draco finally reached his dorm, he was feeling almost panicked. Every time he'd thought of a name, only one face came to mind—Pansy. Maybe he was going insane. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was losing his ever-prized ability to give his complete focus to whatever task was most imperative in the moment.

"Hey Malfoy! Coming to bed a bit late aren't we? Have a lover's rendezvous?" Nott chuckled. Malfoy seethed.

"None of your business Nott. Now mind you pull your head out your arse before I pull it out for you." The mild shock on Nott's face was nothing next to the horror on Draco's. Nott rose painfully slow from his four-poster. He looked Draco up, then down, and then he walked to the loo. Draco sighed his relief and climbed into bed. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, shifting position as often as his emotions shifted. At first, he was relieved, but it didn't take long for confusion to set in, then the exhilaration, the thrill, and finally the pride. He'd stood up to Nott, and he hadn't died! Of course, that in itself was confusing, but almost more perplexing was why he'd done it. Pansy. Draco finally decided that some things were better left to mystery when he heard Nott come back in.

Draco awoke early on Saturday. It hadn't been his intention; it just happened. It might have had something to do with someone quickly and rudely pulling apart Draco's curtains and letting the sun into his bed. He'd almost yelled at that someone, until that someone's features clarified and assumed the appearance of Theodore Nott. A groan strangled Draco's tirade.

"Well, well, well. Not so tough now are we."

"Shut up."

"Ooh, clever! But no, I'd rather not."

"Well, maybe I'll just sew your lips shut for you then." Draco didn't even have time to grin before:

"I wasn't aware you knew how to sew! How…domestic of you. Your mother would be proud." Nott sniggered.

"Listen Nott, quit pestering me, or my father…"

"Oh, dragging your precious daddy into your battles again are we?"

Draco growled. He really didn't want to do this right now. He'd not gotten much sleep, and he got next to nothing done yesterday. Foul mood just didn't quite express it.

"Got a problem with that? Maybe it's because your father is a worthless nobody, or perhaps because your mother is even more of a nobody. Do you even have a mother? Or did she just die and nobody noticed? Oh! That's why you get all pasty around the Thestrals, isn't it? You see them! Do they frighten you ickle Theo?" Draco shocked Nott thoroughly enough to grin fully this time. Despite the fact he knew his attack was rather petty, childish, and born of a foul temper, he couldn't help feeling he was finally going to get past his fear of Nott, and maybe even shut the git up forever.

"I'm not scared of the Thestrals." It was said so quietly that Draco almost missed it. "I'm not scared of anything!" Nott quirked his chin up, and his eyes regained their glitter. "My mother is Claire Nott, but perhaps you know her better by this name: The Red Death."

Draco had heard of her. He was one of the few who knew her as Claire Abingdon, her maiden name. She was somehow related to the Malfoys. She was also his father's idol. Apparently, during the first war, she'd worked right alongside his father, torturing and killing Mudbloods and Muggles. She was apparently so brutal, that even if all she cast was the Avada Kedavra, her victims would bleed out from it, thus her nickname. She was caught and murdered just before the end of the first war.

"My mother was killed by Bartemius Crouch, personally," Nott began, "He'd been looking for evidence that she was the Red Death for years. She killed more Muggles than any other Death Eater during the war. When he had his evidence, Crouch came to our house and performed the Avada Kedavra on her. I was in the Kitchen, looking through a hole in the wall. I saw the whole thing. We only had three seconds warning that Crouch was coming. He'd deactivated all the charms along the perimeter. He put up an anti-apparition shield. He needn't have bothered. My mother had no intention of running. She knew she was caught. She waited for him at the front door, opened it for him. He wanted to read off her charges, make it official. Mum didn't just sit there though and listen. She took a knife to Crouch's arm, drew blood, and managed a taste before he cast the spell. I saw her fall to the floor, her finger still on her tongue." When Nott finished, he looked more crazed than Draco had ever seen him. Draco had the unfortunate luck of being distracted by Nott's face, and he didn't notice Nott pull his wand.

"Never insult my mother, Malfoy!"

Next thing Draco knew he was in the Hospital Wing. He was completely healed, of what he had no idea.

"Draco! Oh Draco! You're up! You've been out all day! I've been so worried about you," Pansy shrieked.

Draco winced, the sudden high-pitch sound was giving him a headache. "Urgh...What happened?"

"I'm not sure. I found you in your dorm when you didn't come to breakfast. You were passed out, and you had some strange sort of rash on your neck. Your face was blue. I thought..." she sniffled, "I thought you were d-dead." Pansy broke out into tears, and Draco scooped her into a stiff hug. He really felt as if he should be being comforted, but she was crying.

"Did Madam Pomfrey tell you...uh...what it was?" Draco asked when Pansy started to calm down. She looked at him and shook her head. He hung his. Just then, Hagrid came in with a nasty cut above his eye, and nursing his left hand, which appeared to be crushed. Draco couldn't help glaring at him. This was one teacher he'd really wished had stayed away. What an oaf! The only teacher he'd ever liked less was perhaps Imposter Moody. He didn't care what his father said about Crouch being the most faithful death eater. Anyone who turned a Malfoy into a ferret should pay! Draco glared more at the gamekeeper turned professor, not even the least bit curious about the injuries...praying that one of his stupid creatures had got him good. At least the oaf had been put on probation. Draco smirked, silently thanking Umbridge.

"Come on Pansy. Let's leave. We don't need to stay in the room while this riff-raff is here," Draco dragged Pansy behind him back to the dorm...his mind back on names as soon as he reached the common room.


	7. Chapter 6: Poisonous Intents

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 6

Poisonous Intents

She was trying to keep it from him, but Draco took it from her, ignoring her slight pout. He couldn't have been more puzzled when he saw the title of the magazine. Pansy didn't usually read _The Quibbler_. He raised his brow and looked at her. She tried to snatch it back.

"Draco, please, listen to me. Give it back!" she pleaded. Draco had no idea what would be in this pile of rubbish magazine to make her act like this. He stared at the cover again, and this time he actually read it. _Harry Potter Speaks Out At Last_. Draco quickly flipped to the article and his face went from white to pink to purple then back to white in the space of two seconds before he slammed the magazine shut, marched off and chucked it into the bin on the way out of the great hall, leaving Pansy gaping at his back. He raced up to his dormitory and threw himself onto the bed, fuming. He slowly began gathering his breath and calming down. Once he was calmer, he made a decision. He needed to discuss this turn of events with Crabbe and Goyle. It was time Potter paid. You couldn't just sully the reputation of a Malfoy and get away with it...even if you were telling the truth. It wasn't a coincidence that this came on the heels of the mass breakout form Azkaban he'd so recently been celebrating. This was an affront of a very grievous nature, and he wasn't just going to sit here and sulk about it. No longer! Draco stalked down the stairs into the common room where he found Crabbe, and he told him to find Goyle and meet in the library. Draco needed a book.

Draco paced the shelves of the library, finally landing on the title he needed. It was a seemingly innocuous book on Wizarding Genaeology, but it held the secret on how Draco was going to find the perfect Mudblood to poison and make his statement. He'd gotten the idea when he was looking over his homework assignments that he'd missed while he was in the Hospital Wing. Professor Binns had assigned them each to analyze the family tree of Beldelwald the Bald to see where he might have gotten the Wizarding gene from, because he was the first Muggleborn Wizard ever recorded. They were supposed to look for any alliance with a Wizarding family. It had gotten Draco to thinking that if he could figure out how to go back through a pureblood line, and there find a mudblood, that would make the perfect statement...especially if that mudblood was from Nott's line.

"Draco, why are we meeting in the library," asked Goyle.

"Because I needed a book...obviously. And we need to discuss _The Quibbler_ article. Potter needs to experience a little pain, and I'm going to need you guys' help." Draco looked at Crabbe then who was making a face, and looking like he expected Potter to appear from behind a shelf. Draco looked around but saw no one.

"Decree 27," Crabbe blurted. Draco had forgotten. If Umbridge found out he had read _The Quibbler_ article, he could get into some serious trouble, and in light of recent events, he wasn't sure his father wouldn't box his ears as well. Draco wasn't used to all the whisperers he was being subjected to while walking the halls. He scowled and nodded to let Crabbe know he'd understood, and that's when he saw Nott approaching their table. A lump began to mass in his throat. What had he done now?

"Malfoy, I'm here to offer a truce. Obviously Potter has dragged both our names through the mud this time, and I have a plan. We should coordinate efforts. I can see that you already have intentions of your own in setting him straight. We should work together on this." Nott's facial expression was sour, but his tone seemed sincere.

"What's your plan?" Malfoy asked carefully. He was in foreign water here with no life vest.

"I think it would be only fair if Potter pays for his wagging tongue...by losing it. I can perform the cutting charm, but I won't be able to get close enough to him, especially not his tongue without some help. I've got everything all sorted out, I just need an extra person. You won't even have to think," Nott muttered under his breath, "since that's not something you're skilled at anyway." Nott looked at him expectantly. "So, are you in?"

Draco pushed down the disgus he felt at Nott's tone and relished for several moments at the idea of cutting out precious Potter's tongue, and he almost convinced himself it would be possible, but he had a fairly good idea that wasn't going to happen. His father had aprised him of how well Harry Potter was protected at Hogwarts...the network of portraits for just one. Draco started shaking his head before he replied, "No, Harry Potter is too well protected for that sort of thing. We'd have to go through the official channels...get him expelled or something. I'm pretty sure I've got a way to..."

"Coward!" hissed Nott, cutting Draco off, and watching him seethe. "I'll find someone else! Truce is off!"

Draco glared as he watched Nott stalk off, hoping the git would get himself expelled. Draco turned back to where Crabbe and Goyle were standing to hash out his own plan, and he was eager to settle this score before Nott, because nothing could please him more in that moment than being able to rub it in that pompous face!

After he finished dictating his plans and the preparation that needed to be done to Crabbe and Goyle, Draco took his newly found library book upstairs to his dorm. He closed the curtains around his bed and began to pore over the pages, reading a section here and there. Draco ran his finger along the text of the page he was currently on when he found what he needed.

"_The single most important resource for those interested in Wizarding Genaeology is the personal family tree. Many wizards have tried to base their research solely on the archives logged in at the Ministry of Magic's Records Room, but these records are rarely accurate for most purposes, given the poor rate of report. Many wizarding families will not report squibs or intermarriages with muggles. Muggles' lineage can't be found in the Records Room, and it is difficult to keep the archives current, so generations of wizards may be missing from some of the data. There are many ways to commence research into a particular wizard's geneaology, and the Records Room can make a decent start, but it is rarely of as much use as getting to know your subject personally, and gaining access to consult their family's personal records. Even many muggles keep these._"

Draco had been hoping the book would tell him that all he had to do was go to the Records Room. That he could have made happen very easily because of his father, but this wasn't as bad as he'd feared. He'd forgotten that most pureblood families keep a record, and who knew more pureblood families than the Malfoys. Draco smiled, but it quickly disappeared when the drapes around his four-poster were briskly torn open, and Blaise Zabini poked his head in to let Draco know that Pansy was looking for him. Draco glared at his dorm mate, and pulled in some breath to prepare to scold Blaise for breaking the unwritten code of the dorm: mates don't bother each other when the curtains are closed...except in the instance that one of them was sleeping through a class. Draco was just about to start his tirade when he felt a punch to his gut and lost all his air. In his fuss, Draco hadn't noticed Nott come in behind Blaise...and obviously throw a silent curse, judging by the smile on the tosser's twisted face. Draco fumed, but Nott only grinned cheekily. "Just wanted to reinforce what I said earlier...pansy. The truce is off." Nott sauntered to his four-poster. Draco almost followed, but he remembered that Pansy was waiting for him. He also remembered what happened last time he'd stood up to Nott. He was too close to completing his plans. Best to leave things alone for right now.

When Draco reached the common room, he saw Pansy sitting on one of the couches, looking as if Christmas had come again, practically bouncing where she sat. As soon as she saw him enter the room, she rushed to him and began to talk...far too fast to be understood.

"Whoa! Slow down, breathe. What's going on?" Draco asked with a small smile on his face. She was so cute when she got like this.

"Professor Umbridge is recruiting some of us to help her round up a bunch of students about to have an illegal meeting, and _Harry Potter_ is going to be among them. She plans to get him expelled." Pansy stopped then, catching her breath and grinning. Draco kissed her on the cheek. This was even better than his plan. This would be perfect!

"We need to get going right now though Draco." He nodded and followed her out.

Draco felt the glee of catching Potter with the trip jinx, but sadly the feeling wouldn't last long. He'd come back to his dorm and for the second time that night his draperies were wrenched open without ceremony, and without his permission.

"So, going through the "official channels" not working out for you, eh Malfoy?" It was Nott, and he was smirking. Draco couldn't even begin to guess what he was on about, and this just seemed to please the weedy boy more. Draco rolled his eyes and attempted to close his drapes, only to be stopped by another silent spell from Nott. Draco couldn't wait to learn how to do that! He was going to skin the nuisance alive! He glared for several moments, but when nothing more was forthcoming, he felt compelled to ask. "Okay, whatever. What's going on?" Nott grinned, and then proceeded to tell Draco that Harry had _not_ been expelled. Afterwards, he walked off to Draco's relief. It seemed Potter had nine lives. He'd just have to let Crabbe and Goyle know the old plan was back on. When Draco woke up the next morning, he immediately went to speak with them, but they were nowhere to be found. Instead there was a great deal of buzz...and a new decree. Nott had conveniently left out that some good had come from the previous night's exploit. Dumbledore had been sacked and replaced by Umbridge. When he felt Pansy come over and attach herself to his shoulder he turned to grin at her bright face, and she immediately began dragging him off.

"Pansy, I really don't have time."

"Trust me Draco, you're going to be interested in this. Professor Umbridge has been informing certain of us students about a little _policing_ organization. She's invited you and I to join. It's called the Inquisitorial Squad. From what I hear, we're going to be able to dock points from other houses." Pansy's conspiratory smile was the most sinister he'd seen it. She was positively gleeful. He couldn't help but beam in response.

After relishing in the opportunity to dock some points from Potter and his friends mere minutes after being inducted as a member of the squad, Draco ran into Nott. He felt distinctly as if his nemesis was following him. He could do little more than glare.

"So, running around, doing the teachers' bidding now. What a pet!"

Draco turned the opposite direction. He wasn't far from the Prefect's Bath. He could escape in there. He almost ran, and only sighed in relief when he was safely behind the shut door. After rolling his eyes and sighing because he knew he was going to hear about his "cowardice" from Nott next time they were unfortunate enough to cross paths, Draco took a seat at the edge of the bath to wait. Once he was sure the way would be clear, he was going to head up to the Owlery and write his father. He needed to get his hands on their family records. He would pretend it was for a school assignment. The owls were being watched...he was part of the group of students checking them after all.

A week later, some very disturbing laughter would be heard from behind the draperies of Draco's four-poster. His plan was perfected. He had a Mudblood and a group of six Halfbloods to poison, bonus that all the Halfbloods happened to be (however distantly) related to Theodore Nott. He already knew exactly how he was going to administer the Basilisk Venom. Everything was planned out to the last detail. It felt like ages, but he finally had a plan to show his Father how worthy he was to be a Malfoy, a plan to make Nott's little atrocities seem innocuous, a plan that would not implicate himself. Draco's sleep had never been more peaceful.


	8. Chapter 7: Catching the Silver Snitch

**Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 7**

**Catching the Silver Snitch**

Draco leaped out of bed the morning he was set to put his plan into action. He had seen to every detail, and was almost glowing with a sinister grin affixed to his jaw. Pansy would receive the rewards of his happiness when he bounded up to her in the common room and planted a kiss on her as soon as he saw her, and then he began to dance her around the deserted room. He was up far earlier than usual because he hadn't been able to sleep long…too excited.

"Why Draco, you're in an awfully good mood. What has you so happy?"

Draco just grinned at Pansy and twirled her around a few more times. "Sorry love. It's top secret! Would you like to get breakfast with me?"

Pansy just smiled quizzically, but she came along easily. Draco had never called someone "love" before. It felt oddly right. What also felt right was the vial of basilisk venom weighted in his pocket. He'd sent an "invitation" to all of the offending parties whom he planned to poison. They were going to show up for breakfast together. If only he'd have known how quickly things would go wrong though, Draco might have stayed upstairs, buried in his covers.

"Draco Malfoy!" Severus Snape snapped. "Please come to my office."

Typically, Draco wasn't one to fear Professor Snape. Snape was an old family friend after all, but at this exact moment, the professor looked dangerous. Draco followed him down to the dungeons, trying to assure Pansy that everything would be okay with his parting glance, but doing a poor job since he couldn't convince himself of the point.

"Draco, I need to search you, and if what I'm searching for happens to be on you. I'm warning you now that I'm not going to be able to avoid expelling you."

Draco gulped. Surely it wasn't possible for Snape to know about the venom. This was the only part of the plan that Draco had ever worried he could get caught in, since it required him to have the venom on his person, traceable to him, but he'd figured the chances of him being searched at any time, let alone the brief window when the vial would be in his robes, were so slim that he needn't worry. Apparently, he should have. His faced turned to chalk as the venom floated out of his robe pocket into the outstretched hand of Severus Snape. What would his father think? He'd been caught.

"Sir, I can explain that! It's just a vial I found at my house. I was going to bring it to you after breakfast. I've been trying to figure out what it is since Christmas. Do you know?" Draco's smile was stilted by his fear. He felt nauseous.

"Draco, lying to me won't do you any good. A student turned in this note with all of your plans earlier this morning." Snape pushed a fat envelope over to Draco's stunned face.

"That's impossible!" He hadn't shared any of his plans. No one should know. He'd burnt every piece of parchment he'd ever laid a piece of the plan on, but as he rifled through the contents of the envelope, he saw each document, pointing at him in ink with his own handwriting. His face had gone ashen long before, and now it had to be nearly transparent.

"Draco, I hate to do it, but I have no choice but to expel you. You should have been more careful! I'm required to turn these papers in to the school records, and that means every teacher will know. If I tried to keep you here, I'd just lose my job, and you'd be expelled anyway." The professor looked truly sorry. He knew what Draco would face when he got home.

Draco was on the verge of vomiting when he heard the quiet, "Hem hem," from the doorway. Umbridge had walked in with a self-satisfied smirk. "Professor Snape, as headmistress, I learned that you had some interesting information on a student. I'm asking that you hand it over to me." She didn't look like she was asking.

Snape handed the envelope over with a knitted brow, and then with a gaping mouth as he watched her tear it to shreds right in front of him.

"Surely Dumbledore would approve of giving this dear boy a second chance, after all that he has done for the school? After all, nothing happened. No harm, no foul, and I am headmistress now," she smiled sweetly. "Now, run along Mr. Malfoy."

Draco didn't need to be told twice. He could barely run fast enough, and when he reached the common room, he couldn't run at all anymore. His knees gave out as he collapsed, out of breath and weak-kneed with relief, just inside the entrance. Pansy had been in a chair by the fire, waiting, and as soon as she heard him, she came over and gently helped him over to his throne.

"Draco, Nott told me what happened…with you being expelled," she gulped. Are you okay? Do you want to stay with my parents? I can ask them to keep you from your father."

"What?" his head shot up. "Pansy, I'm not expelled."

"Oh Draco!" she launched herself at him then, gripping him in a bone-crushing hug, which he returned only too greedily, considering he couldn't breathe before and now even less. He was relieved too though.

Once they finally loosened their grip on each other to breathe, Draco realized something she'd said, "You said Nott told you?" Pansy nodded. Draco glared into space, taking a deep breath. At least now he understood how an envelope full of his plans wound up with Professor Snape. Draco extricated himself from Pansy's grasp without a word and stalked up to his dorm. Sure enough, there was Nott with a smarmy grin on his face.

"What did you do!" Draco shouted.

"Don't you have packing to do Malfoy? You really shouldn't waste your time railing at me. I'm sure they expect you to leave the school in a timely manner."

Draco's turn to be smug. "I bet you think you're so clever! You put a copy spell on all of my parchment so it would copy over to yours didn't you? Well guess what…unlike some people, I have friends at this school. I'm not expelled!" He threw the last sentence like a curse, and relished the look on Nott's face as the weedy boy realized the implications. Unfortunately, he recovered quicker than Draco would have liked.

"Well, that's okay. You still failed. You're still a nothing, and you're not even smart enough to figure out that I'm nowhere near dumb enough to do the evidence-gathering all by myself." Nott stalked off like he'd won something, while Draco rolled his eyes and flopped into bed with his head in his hands. At that exact moment, Blaise walked in, and he might have been fine if he hadn't shown the surprise he felt when he saw Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nott is worse than a pair of first year girls. I take it he told you too?" Draco lay back in his bed and recited wearily, "I'm not expelled."

"Er…yeah. Nice mate, I…er…thought you were a goner…you know…when Nott told me." Draco stared at the boy suspiciously for a moment before deciding to leave him with his nerves. He had probably been expecting company of the female variety and was hoping the dorm was empty.

As he lay there, seething, Draco came to three coherent conclusions: he needed to figure out who helped Nott, he needed to get back that vial of basilisk venom, and he was going to kill Nott and his accomplice!

"Blaise?" Draco asked out of his musings. "Do you remember how to perform that charm professor Flitwick talked about at the beginning of the semester…the one for how to trace an object charm?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I just want to make sure I've got it down. I was tipped off by a reliable source that tracing would be on the OWLs." It was a lie, but Draco didn't want Blaise accidentally letting something slip that might alert Nott's accomplice of Draco's plan. After paying attention to Blaise's instructions, Draco closed the curtains on his bed, saying he needed to study, and he pulled out a piece of parchment. He wrote his name in the top corner as if he were getting ready to start an essay, and then he performed the trace charm. The parchment glowed red briefly, indicating that there was, in fact, an object charm placed on it, and then the glow that had been sucked into the paper lit up again in words. Charm: Imitarius. Wand: ten-inch Cherry, dragon heartstring core. Wand Registration Status: registered at the British Ministry of Magic, registration number 2832061. Draco memorized the number, knowing his parchment wasn't safe. At least it was registered so he wouldn't have to find who cast the spell the hard way…with old-fashioned leg work. Draco went to the library to the records section. He found the most recent MoM wand registry in the public record and turned to the last page. The last wand listed was 296 something, so Draco felt positive the offending wand would be listed in this tome. He flipped through the pages until he found the right number. He ended up having to double-check that he'd memorized the number correctly by performing the trace spell again. There it was though, in black ink on the public record: Wand 2832061: Registered 1991. Maker: Ollivander's. Specification: Cherry, ten-inch, dragon heartstring core. Owner: Zabini, Blaise.


	9. Chapter 8: Foiled: The First Time

**A/N: **Sorry. Short chapter. The next should be the last though.

Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 8

Foiled: The First Time

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" The chanting blew a tattoo on Draco's eardrums. He had his wand out, circling a boy he had once considered a friend, prepared to blow said boy's head off at the first sign of movement. Draco had failed to reclaim the Basilisk Venom from Professor Snape's office, so he decided the next most satisfying revenge would be a duel. Draco had waylaid Zabini in their dormitory, and the two had been trading curses and shields for five minutes. The fight had spilled down the stairs and into the common room after Draco knocked Zabini down the dormitory steps with a poorly deflected Expelliarmus. Now, the two boys were trading more and more dangerous curses. Draco barely blocked a jinx that would have sent him to St. Mungo's for sure.

"Sectumsempra!" Draco shouted, and Zabini's arm got an unfortunate slice, but his shield blocked the rest of the curse.

"Draco! Draco, stop!" Pansy had been tugging on his arm every thirty seconds since the fight came to the common room, but something about her tone had changed. She seemed…excited.

"Draco, Professor Umbridge is calling members of the Inquisitorial Squad," Pansy pointed to Milicent Bulstrode, who had apparently come in with the message.

Draco eyed Zabini warily, and Zabini seemed to notice that something was going on. While he was distracted, Draco threw a swift punch. No one could have told him how much it would hurt. It was like smashing his fist into a concrete wall, but it was only bone and flesh. At least Zabini was taken aback by the blow, and the way he was clutching his mouth, he might be missing a few teeth.

Pleased with himself, Draco stomped off behind Pansy, and he was glad he had.

Sitting at the windowsill in Umbridge's office, tossing Harry Potter's wand in the air, catching it, over and over, Draco felt like he could forgive Zabini. If he would continue to feel this way in the morning was an impossible determination, but feeling it now was enough to show him his own elation. He felt powerful. Maybe he could even take Nott. Then icing on Draco's cake, Harry was apparently going mad, spurting gibberish at Professor Snape.

Finally, the Granger girl caved. There was a secret weapon. This was kismet. Draco would surely be able to get his revenge on Nott if he had a secret weapon. Draco offered to go with Umbridge, as protection of course. Couldn't let on that he was scheming again.

"I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Malfoy, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone? In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these escape," she gestured around at Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna.

Draco looked around at his fellow Squad members and smirked. He felt confident they could handle it…well, with the possible exception of Crabbe and Goyle.

Barely a minute after he had the thought, his face was covered in bats. It all started so innocently. Neville asked if he could use the restroom. Despite feeling that no harm could come of it, Draco insisted Neville hold it, and told Bulstrode to keep a closer eye on him. The one they should have watched was that Weasley boy. Draco averted his backup watch on Crabbe and Ron for a second, and in that time, Weasley retrieved his wand and jinxes were whizzing across the room. They all got their wands way too quickly, and all Draco could do was listen once the bats attacked. He heard bodies falling. Stunners were traded, but it had to be the squad members who were down. He was pretty sure it was Neville who cast an impediment jinx, though that must have been the disbelief talking. The only voices he could hear were their "captives." How had it all gone so bad so fast? Draco tried desperately to chase off the bats attacking him, but it was pointless. He could actually feel cuts on his face, blood oozing out, and then, to heap insult on injury, he heard the feet rushing by. That was them escaping. At least the bats stopped.

Draco wanted to curl up and cry. Instead, he made a vow. He wouldn't fail again. He would get Potter, and that would show Nott. Maybe with a little healthy fear in him, Nott would be an easy enough second target. "This will not happen again!" he muttered fiercely to the empty room. At that point, one of the cuts on his face stung extra viciously, and he nursed it all the way to Madam Pomfrey. Umbridge was there as well. Draco smiled. At least he wasn't the only one whose night ended badly. And it looked like he would be away from Hogwarts before she could heal up enough to lecture him about the escape. He scowled. "Never again," he mumbled before Pomfrey made her way to his side. It's time to uphold the Malfoy name.


	10. Chapter 9: Foiled and Furious

A/N: Wow. I finally finished. I know I'm not the only one who thought I never would. You all can thank NaNoWriMo for this chapter. It gave me the kick in the pants that I needed to write it. So, this is where I give thanks to everyone in the world who has ever read this story. I also feel compelled to apologize. This thing started as a small, three-chapter plot bunny in 2005 and grew into something else. Thanks for the patience as I muddled my way through, my few but loyal readers.

**Mudbloods Beware: Chapter 9**

**Foiled and Furious**

Draco planned it to the last detail. It was a good plan. Simple. Since McGonagall had ruined his first attempt, he was just going to ambush Potter on the train. He ground his teeth as he remembered all those points McGonagall had given Gryffindor. Whatever. There was less security on the train anyway. He'd perform one of the more dangerous curses he'd found and, magically, no more Potter. He wanted it even more than before, which he hadn't known was possible. There was more on the line now. This was about getting even. And then, he'd get his father back…finally prove to everyone and his father that he wasn't a screw-up.

It all should have worked. He even brought Crabbe and Goyle with him as physical back-up or shields if necessary. What he hadn't expected was the slew of students, from all the houses, who would jump to Harry's defense. He really missed the "Harry is a deranged lunatic" attitude. It had made his life so much easier. He had a long train ride as a slug to think it through, and he decided not taking account for that shift of public opinion was where he'd gone wrong. He actually fell asleep toward the end of the trip. It was his mother's shriek that woke him when he arrived at King's Cross. From there he was transferred in a flurry and under-wraps to St. Mungo's where healers worked on him with somewhat less attention than they would have a month ago. Back then, his father had been a prominent donor to the hospital. Now, his father was a disgraced, dark, death eater. The enemy. Still, Malfoy was back to normal after only two weeks. Well, except for that whole slime trail thing. The healers insisted it would clear up on its own in a few days. It was just magical residue. It needed to wear off, they said.

Even before it did, he was making plans. With his father gone, getting back into the room beneath the drawing room should be easier than ever. Draco's face soured. He'd get his father out of this…somehow. And he'd start with Potter. He'd just find some other wicked something down there to use.

When Draco made it home, his mother worried over him constantly, however. He wasn't able to sneak downstairs with her constant fussing. It took nearly a month for him to convince her he would be okay if she went to visit his Auntie Bellatrix. Once she did though, Draco was in the room faster than you could say Slytherin. He rooted around in the books, took a trip around the shelves. This time, there were no distractions. There was no rush. Of course, there was also no lucky swiping of the perfect bottle. It took him some time to find a poison that wouldn't be traceable, but once he found it, he swiped it off the shelf and calmly walked back upstairs. He supposed it'd be easy enough to slip into Harry's drink sometime once school started back. He clutched it in his fist and moved it into the secret compartment of his trunk. Just then, he heard the front door opening.

"Draco!" his mother called. There was a quiver to her voice.

"Coming, mum!" he yelled back down the stairs, confused.

Of course, once he made it down, everything became clear. It was like something from one of his nightmares. How did this even happen? Draco stared at the scene: his mother standing next to the Dark Lord…in his kitchen. To say his eyes were wide would probably be an understatement. He could imagine his face appearing as all eyes, and he was positive he'd also felt all the blood rush away from him. His face was probably white with all the pallor of one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

"Draco," the Dark Lord said softly with something that might resemble a smile on a different face.

"Yes?" he gulped. What do you say to the Lord of all dark things…all the things he'd aspired to for his father's sake.

"I have a proposition for you."

His mother gasped softly, but took a seat. Clearly, she wasn't welcome to speak at this point, judging by the clench of her jaw. She looked near tears, but Draco couldn't really focus on her. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. _He _was here.

"What if I told you, Draco, that there was a way you could help your father? I could help you discover powers like you've never known. I just need one, tiny, favour from you." The words seemed almost menacing, but Draco was enthralled. He nodded, visions of Potter going down and his father's approving face swimming in his brain.

"I will make you one of my Death Eaters. You will be trained. And then, you will kill Albus Dumbledore."

He probably choked. Draco wondered if there was some sort of spell keeping him upright. Surely he should have passed out by now? But the Dark Lord continued.

"You're the perfect person for this mission." He ghosted to Draco's side, whispering in his ear. "I need someone close to him, and loyal to me, and with your father in Azkaban…I know you'll be ideal."

Draco shivered. Was this some sort of threat? Did he care? This was the greatest wizard of all time, offering him powers he couldn't imagine right now. He was being trusted with a hugely important mission. He could take Potter and all his gang! He could take Nott. He could finally get rid of that muggle-lover, pitiful excuse for a Headmaster. He'd be the most important of all the Death Eaters. His father would be freed, and he'd be proud. Draco could hear the words, "Well done, son," in his head. He looked up, just avoiding the Dark Lord's gaze.

"I'll do it."

Narcissa gasped quietly. Draco didn't even look at her.

The grin on the Dark Lord's face looked un-nerving at best. And Draco nearly flinched backwards as his new liege reached for his left arm. The Dark Lord put one, long, white fingernail on the flesh and it burned like an unforgivable, but Draco clenched his teeth. He wouldn't dare scream. It was like he could see his father's face in his head. He could see Nott's gloating face. He could see Potter. No, Draco wouldn't scream.


End file.
